


All Those Letters Unsent

by ScribblesOnMapleLeaves



Series: Mandatory Witcher Fics [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A little, Angst, First Kiss, Fluff with a Sad Ending, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Tries His Best, How Do I Tag, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I hope, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Inspired by How I Met Your Mother, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Letters, M/M, Mostly hurt, Sort Of, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Title from a The Amazing Devil Song, With A Twist, and madeleine hyland is a queen, angst with a happy ending except without the happy ending, because joey batey is my god, fuck off it's not soft serve, jaskier is the emotionally constipated one this time, jaskier rambles a lot, kind of?, like a creemie, like not really but sort of, no beta we die like renfri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribblesOnMapleLeaves/pseuds/ScribblesOnMapleLeaves
Summary: The first of my "mandatory witcher fics", I present to you:1) The Forgiver:Geralt and Jaskier work through their problems after "The Mountain"! Jaskier finally lets himself get angry. Geralt finally admits to himself that he loves Jaskier. They kiss and make up.Except I couldn't help but make it sad. This is partially inspired by How I Met Your Mother, because I hate it when they do this, so I had to try it out myself. I hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Roach
Series: Mandatory Witcher Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849921
Comments: 13
Kudos: 71





	All Those Letters Unsent

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note: the summary for each category or trope isn't exactly the summary for my specific piece of writing. I'll put anything you need to know about mine above the category in my summary section. I'm sorry if that's confusing - the way I wanted to format it didn't work with the ao3 software. Basically, this series is about putting a fun little twist on the classics, so things might not follow the same plot line as these sort of fics usually do. The main idea will remain more or less the same, though. That being said, let me know if you think of a trope you want me to do! If it's not already on my list, I'll add it to the queue.
> 
> TTFN!

Geralt -

You have made yourself abundantly clear, over the years, that I am of little use to you. I’m sorry I never heeded your words before. Perhaps I would have been able to save us both some hurt if I had left when you first told me to.

There’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, and now seems to be my last chance. I love you, Geralt. I have for many years. I know you do not feel the same - I do not expect you to seek me out and profess your undying love in return. I just wanted you to know why I stayed with you when you told me to leave before today. I hope you can forgive me, for loving you and for following you, and think of our memories together with some semblance of fondness.

Regardless, I wanted to assure you that I am well and truly gone. Never again will I burden you with my presence. I wish you the best on your Path, and hope you will find a companion who suits you better than I ever could. You deserve to be happy, Geralt, although I know you won’t believe me. And that is why I am giving up my own happiness for your sake.

Finally and fondly,

Jaskier

●●●

Geralt stared down at the letter in his calloused hands. He ran his finger over the creases left by the careful folding. He read the words again, and again, until he was sure of their meaning, until he memorized the shape of the writing.

 _Jaskier_ loved him. Jaskier _loved_ him. Jaskier loved _him._ It seemed unbelievable. He read the letter again.

Jaskier loved him, and he had pushed him away. He had told the bard that he wanted nothing more to do with him, that he had never wanted anything to do with him. It wasn’t true, but he had meant it. He had wanted to say the worst possible thing he could think of - and he had. And now, as he stood next to Roach at the bottom of the mountain, his saddlebag open and smelling of Jaskier, of sunshine and dewdrops and ink and woodsmoke, he regretted it.

Geralt refolded the letter. He tucked it under his pauldron and swung easily onto Roach’s back. Without so much as thinking, he turned her towards the road and the nearest town.

Jaskier was not a hard man to find. The moment he stepped past the edge of the trees that surrounded the tiny hamlet, he could hear the sounds of a tavern. Light poured from it’s windows, and the bard’s voice, choked with wine and tears, wove through the night air. He left Roach with the stableboy and pushed open the door.

The light of the tavern would have been too much for him, his sensitive eyes used to the dark sky. The sound, too, would have overwhelmed him, if it weren’t for the singular focus of his mind. Witchers weren’t built for crowds, but they were built for tracking. Across the room, leaning against the bar, was Jaskier. He was still wearing the red jacket he’d been in the evening before. He held a glass of wine in one hand - cheap, by the smell of it, Geralt thought. The other hand was resting possessively on the thigh of the man sitting next to him.

Geralt didn’t even bother looking at the man’s face. He stomped over to the pair, patrons going silent as he passed. With one look from Geralt, the man was hurriedly making excuses and skittering out of the path of the angry witcher.

Jaskier turned to look at him, his face shocked. “Oh ho ho ho ho, no. Nope, no, no thank you, Geralt, I do not need more of your anger taken out on me. You had your chance and you, ah, certainly did not waste it, so, um, I’m just going to -”

“Jaskier. Shut up.” Jaskier closed his mouth. Geralt reached up to his shoulder and pulled out the piece of parchment tucked there. “I found your letter.”

“Ah. Yes. Good. Right. I’ll, uh, just let you think on that, then, and go resume my conversation with that lovely young man over in the corner.” The bard, in a lazy attempt to evade Geralt, hopped down from his stool to walk away. Geralt grabbed the back of his shirt.

“What do you want from me?” Jaskier yelled as he spun back, suddenly angry. He was waving his hands around frantically, the way he did when he was frustrated or nervous or - well, Jaskier was waving his hands around more often than he wasn’t. “I left, like you wanted me to! I told you I would never bother you again! So what’s the problem? _Must_ you continue to torment me, even now?”

“I _want_ ,” Geralt growled, looking around at the other staring customers with a meaningful glance, “to talk.”

“Oh. Oh, really?” the bard protested. “Now, after three decades of one-sided conversations, now you want to talk?”

“Yes,” Geralt replied. “Do you have a room?”

“I do, in fact, and it’s not you I’m planning on sharing it with.”

Geralt could feel his emotions rising. He had come here to apologize. Did Jaskier have to be such a dick about it?

Even as he thought it, he knew the bard had every right to behave the way he was. Geralt had been a dick first; it was only fair. That didn’t help to calm the anger bubbling in the pit of Geralt’s stomach, though. Jaskier had always had a way of breaking through the witcher’s hard exterior.

“If you want to say something to me,” the bard was proclaiming, “you can say it right here.” He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. “Go on, Geralt, say it. Quickly, preferably, so you can get back to whatever you were doing, and I can get back to doing… well, actually, I haven’t decided yet, but someone in this bar. It, you know, cures all things, as they say.”

Geralt just wanted him to stop talking. The more he mentioned his plans for the night, the more the witcher’s blood began to boil.

“Damnit, Jaskier,” He grit out, and then his hands were in the bard’s shirt, underneath the red leather of his jacket, and he was pulling the man forward.

His lips met with resistance that instantly made him second guess himself. Had he misread the letter? Was this not what Jaskier had meant when he’d said ‘love’? Was the bard bothered by what the other patrons, who were undoubtedly watching them, were going to think?

And then Jaskier softened into the kiss. His lips parted, ever so slightly. His hands wound around Geralt’s neck. His body relaxed into the tight grip Geralt still had on his collar.

And, for a moment, everything was right in the world. Geralt had never felt so complete, or so content, as he did with his bard in his arms. When they broke apart, Jaskier had never looked more beautiful. A soft smile played on his lips, a blush coloring his cheeks as Geralt reveled in the hitch of his breathing, the subtle scent of lust mixing perfectly with his natural fragrance.

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, pulling him closer to -

●●●

It started to rain.

The cold water ran down Jaskier’s neck, pulling him from his thoughts. The tavern disappeared. Geralt was nowhere to be seen. He looked down at the letter in his hands, the ink beginning to run in the sudden downpour.

Roach was looking at him expectantly, her saddlebag open and waiting. He pet her once on the neck.

“Sorry, girl,” he said, his voice soft. “I changed my mind, I guess. This is goodbye for us, then, my love. Maybe one day I’ll run into you again, and have time for a quick hello before Geralt comes back from killing whatever it is he’s been paid to kill. Tell you what, sweet thing. When I see you again, I’ll have a carrot for you, okay?”

Jaskier looked back down at the parchment he was holding. He’d folded it and unfolded it five times already. He folded it again, and tucked it into his doublet. He turned back to the mountain he’d come from, tilting his face up towards the clouds.

“Goodbye, Geralt. Do try to be careful, all right?” He didn’t really think Geralt could hear him from the top of the mountain, but witcher hearing was an impressive thing at times. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was wrong.

With one last pat between Roach’s ears, Jaskier walked away, his lute strapped to the back. For once, he couldn’t bring himself to care if the instrument got wet.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope this made sense, and made you at least a little bit sad. I apologize for any typos - I have time to write things, but I'll die before I have time to proofread them. Hopefully spell check did its job. 
> 
> Just for future reference: if I ever think I need to put a TW or a disclaimer, those notes will be at the beginning of the chapter. Otherwise, I'll wait till the end. 
> 
> This is my first fanfiction on ao3 (although there was a brief time in middle school that I wrote Hamilton fanfiction on Fanfiction.net, but we don't talk about that), and feedback is appreciated! Please be nice.


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